Tales of the Coffin Breaker
by Outlet of Shadows
Summary: It's been four years since Harry Potter killed Voldemort. But what about those who died for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time? The coffin breaker will ask for: "..."    Not completely compliant with the books on who died
1. Chapter 1

Tales of the Coffin Breaker

Story 1: The tell tale twins

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

George was sitting on a stool in the Hog's Head, tossing back shots of fire whiskey like there was no tomorrow. If it were any other day, he would be at the shop, working with his brother Percy, laughing with the customers who came by for a good joke. Not today though, not on the anniversary of the Battle.

'_Hey George? You're the best twin a guy could ask for.'_

He slammed his glass against the counter and put his face in his hands. He couldn't cry, his tears had dried up so long ago.

"'Scuse me, is anyone sitting there?"

George looked up from the counter to see a skinny man with long, messy black hair and dark tattered robes. He nodded mutely, in the four years since the Battle; he never had a person walk up to the bar and asks him a question.

The man sat down and ordered a fire whiskey, and over the night, as George gulped down a dangerous amount of the burning drink, his companion slowly nursed his. Eventually, it was just the two left in the bar, neither having spoken. The stranger offered George a sobering potion, and finally asked a question:

"If you could bring him back, would you? No matter the price?"

George, having just gulped down the potion, turned towards the man, a dangerous look in his eye. "I'd go through hell for my brother, just as he would for me. Now who the hell are you, and what right do you have to ask about him?" The man pulled out a card and was about to speak when George cut him off, "you're a bloody reporter, aren't you? You lot always come around this time of year; asking questions about Fred and what I felt when he died; if it felt as bad as when my ear was blown off; if I missed my sister and of course, whether I know where Harry Potter disappeared to. You have no right to come on this night and ask me those questions!"

George looked down at the man, having risen from his stool during his tirade. The man still said nothing, and George wanted to wipe the apologetic smile off his face. Instead he turned and marched towards the door, planning on having another drink at home.

"I'm not a reporter, I don't have any questions about the past, and I certainly have a right to ask—having been there."

George didn't stop, honestly he didn't care. He had lost more that night than anyone else. Others had lost friends, brothers, sisters, parents, and teachers. He had lost his other half, he had lost–

"I can bring him back for a reasonable price."

George froze and turned around, walking straight back to his stool, sitting down, and snatching the card out of the man's hand. He read before starring at the man, suspicion in his eyes.

"All it says is 'Coffin Breaker.' He muttered, growing even more aggravated when the man's grin widened.

"You could say I'm a kind of necromancer, except instead of rising spirits, inferi, skeletons and such ilk, I bring people who died before their time back… for a reasonable price."

"Oh a reasonable price you say?" George growled, almost rising from his chair again. "And what is that price? Servitude? Human sacrifice? My soul?"

The man laughed, taking a sip of his drink before shaking his head. "Nothing quite so dreary." He said, still chuckling. "For a dark soul, that might be enough, but for a soul bathed in light and kindness? I would think not. What I will take is something of value, great value actually, and in exchange, I shall return your dear brother from the grave."

"So what is it I have to give up than?" George said, still not trusting the man at all. "My joke shop? Should I sign it in your name?"

"Merlin's pink wand no!" the man shouted, hands waving frantically. "I couldn't think up a good idea for a joke product to save my life! No, I'll take something much more… personal. I'll take something of yours that is beautiful and infectious, that every child has, but few adults properly remember how to achieve. I'll take your laughter."

"… Are you sure this isn't a bad joke?" George said, not completely understanding. 'How would one even go about taking someone's laughter?'

"I assure you, this is no joke, just tell me yes or no, and the arrangements can be made." The man spoke softly, as if sharing a secret.

"Are you kidding?" George said, holding out his hand. "I'd go through hell for my brother. If you can do this, do it now."

The coffin breaker smiled. "As you wish." He stated simply snapping his fingers, causing sparks to fly out.

George waited for something to happen, but all that occurred was the man getting up and walking out the door. He stopped briefly and in a barely audible voice said, "This is the last time we'll meet in this capacity, or possibly ever again, George. Never change, never grow up, and never stop smiling."

George, depressed by the horrible joke that had been played on him, got drunk again, sobered up again, and headed home. The entire way he muttered about conmen and insane vagrants. He opened the door…

And was promptly knocked over by a bear hug.

Disoriented he looked up and was slightly confused. "How does a mirror go about hugging someone?" his thoughts made into word.

"Forge! Don't go calling me a mirror! We both know my dashing good looks far outweigh your 'holiness.'" The 'mirror' said indignantly.

George was gob smacked. There, breathing, large as life, stood his twin brother Fred. Seeing this, he did something he hadn't done since the funeral. Grabbing his brother in a tight hug, head upon his brother's shoulder,

He cried.

He cried for almost an hour before finally managing to get a question out. "But!... how!"

Fred smiled, not the devilish smile they usually wore, but a soft smile few ever were lucky enough to catch. "You're the one who made the contract, you tell me."

George didn't say anything, instead, he just held his brother tightly. The entire night he told his brother about everything that had happened, sparring no detail. As dawn finally approached, George made a flu call to everyone he could find, telling them to meet at the flat above the joke store.

For the next week, the Weasley clan (and honorary members) took a mini-vacation, all of them breaking into tears upon seeing Fred. They spent the entire week hosting a party for his 'return from beyond,' telling jokes, partying and laughing. Afterwards the twins and Percy reopened the shop, filling it with laughter and joy. The only oddity, excluding Fred's miraculous return from the grave, was George.

From the day Fred was revived onward, George never laughed. He would smile like a devil, laughter in his eyes, but he would never laugh. When asked, a statement he felt wasn't his came from his lips.

"Laughter was the price of one amazing life. I would give thousands of thousands more for the one who I am incomplete without."

He would then take a Chicken Chowder and slip it into Fred's meal.


	2. Chapter 2

Tales of the Coffin Breaker

Story 2: pride of a father

Amos Diggorey was sitting in his study, as he did most days now, when he heard a soft knock. Slowly getting up he couldn't help but wonder whom it was, having not been expecting guest this evening. He opened the door slowly, looking threw the crack it created. He was surprised to see a child who couldn't be more than 22 standing outside his door. "Who the deuce are you?" he snapped, angry for being disturbed.

The boy simply smiled and held out a card, which Amos took and read, turning pale.

He looked closely at the boy, trying to see any discerning features. "You're the one who revived the Weasley boy? But you're just a child!"

The boy laughed at this, nodding his head. Amos fully opened the door, and gestured for him to follow.

They entered Amos's study, and for almost an hour, neither spoke or moved, they simply starred at each other. It was Amos who finally broke the silence.

"Well? I doubt you came here without reason boy. Tell me what it is I have to do to get my son back."

The 'boy' smiled and shook his head. "I have not come today to revive your son, unless you are truly willing to give up your pride."

Amos laughed, in a bitter and hollow way. He looked at the boy with the eyes of a man who had died years ago. "Child, you have no idea what I have lost. You just cannot comprehend it. Cedric died, my wife slipped into insanity from it. She's still at St. Mungo's. The pain of losing my boy, my pride and joy, left me little better than her. I couldn't get out of bed most days and lost my job. The only reason I still possess this house is that as a freelance ward-crafter, I made quite a bit.

At first I blamed the Potter boy. Who else could be responsible but him? Certainly not Voldemort like he claimed. But eventually I gave up on that notion. Potter might have been the boy-who-lived, but Cedric was a tough lad and wouldn't have been killed by a kid.

Next I blamed Dumbledore. He was in charge. He should have kept my boy safe like he promised. But again, as time passed, I realized there wasn't much Dumbledore could do about an illegal portkey.

I blamed Voldemort next, and still do to some extent. But he wasn't the one who caused the horrible chain of events. I'm the one who pushed Cedric to compete in that blasted tournament, and now he's dead because of it. If I hadn't had such pride, if I hadn't thought he could become famous and popular worldwide, I wouldn't have done it." He turned to the boy—no, the Coffin Breaker at this point, having during his tirade stood up and looked at a picture on his desk, a picture of the Diggorey family back when Cedric was 6. "So yes, Coffin Breaker. I'd be willing to give up my pride."

The Coffin Breaker started laughing. He laughed and laughed and laughed. Bent over double, he didn't see the angry flush filling Amos's face.

"you would laugh at this boy? At the pain I feel? To mock it?" he shouted, drawing his wand. The Coffin Breaker's laughter slowed, and he held up his hand. Amos was shocked when his wand flew to the laughing man's hand.

"I come not to mock Amos, but to judge. I wanted to know if your pride would be enough to pay for a soul such as Cedric. I find that It might just be. Before I do this though, we should probably head to St. Mungo's." The Coffin Breaker said as he pulled out a miniature of the Goblet of Fire. Amos seemed to understand, and grabbed the goblet.

With a flash and a bang, they found themselves in the room belonging to Amos's wife. It was just as Amos remembered it from Sunday, with one small exception: there was now a second bed in the room.

"Whose bed is that? I specifically paid for a private room for her." Amos said indignantly, even as went over to his wife, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and fluffed her pillows.

"Why Amos, I told you I would be taking your pride. I never said how, did I?" The Coffin Breaker said as he put a hand on Amos's shoulder and practically led him to the second bed. "This bed here is for you Amos, as the payment is quite steep in this scenario."

"Why would you need a bed for me? You're only taking my pride." Amos asked, eyeing the bed like it was going to bite him.

"Ah, but Amos, Pride means so many things. In this case, it means everything. What I'm taking from you Amos, will destroy your pride, as it is something valuable. What I'm taking Amos, is your self sufficiency.

"Mind you, you'll still be able to walk and talk and the like, but from now on you'll have to take daily potions that will be administered by the staff here. Without these potions, you'll die."

Amos sighed resignedly. "Do what you must, my boy died long before his time. As long as I can see him, and possibly some grandchildren he'll sire, I'll be the happiest man on this planet."

The Coffin Breaker smiled and walked towards the door. "I've already talked to the staff here. They'll bring round the first batch of potions in the morning. Sleep well until then."

As he left, Amos grumbled in annoyance. It was still many hours before he would even consider sleeping. To pass the time, he summoned his chest board from home, and played against the pieces themselves, which was in reality quite simple with all their bickering.

Amos awoke, not sure when he had fallen asleep, to a gentle shake. He looked up and saw a masked attendant holding a tray of seven potions. He looked at them, then back at the attendant. "Which of these are for me?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"All of them." The attendant said, a mischievous note in his voice.

Amos, even at this point, still had some pride, and thus screwed up his eyes and began gulping them down one by one. Each tasted worst than the last, and he eyed the final one, a purple concoction, shooting of multicolored sparks with fear.

"I'm afraid it's part of the regiment sir." The attendant said, as if reading Amos's thoughts. "You have to drink it."

Amos screwed up his determination, and in one swift motion brought the substance to his lips and swallowed it. Even with his swiftness though, the taste lingered. It was so horrible, Amos began to whimper like a child.

The attendant whistled. "Wow dad, I never thought you'd manage to get the last on down. Of course I never expect to see you cry either…"

Amos looked up from his bed as the attendant removed his mask. There he was, Cedric, his son, who had just witnessed him crying from drinking a _potion_. Amos groaned and understood now what the Coffin Breaker had meant. He would definitely get to see Cedric often, but he would have to bare the torment of his son seeing him at his weakest daily. Even so, he managed to laugh.

"Pride means nothing compared to the most important person in my life." He said, standing and clapping Cedric on the back. "Now go make me some grandkids so I can spoil them rotten!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three- Everything and anything for the one I love

The Coffin Breaker whistled a cheery tune as he walked down the dank corridors. The people to his left and right were perturbed by this, but who wouldn't? After all, it wasn't everyday someone came through Azkaban, let alone non-government officials. The strangest thing about the man was his patronus. Most patronus were strong or dangerous animals, ones that ruled their territory. This man's patronus was a hare.

He continued to walk down the corridor, occasionally waving to dementors. He finally stopped in front of a cell marked _R. Lestrange._ "So this is what has become of one of the most feared Death Eaters in existence. How pathetic." The man in the cell didn't move, not acknowledging the person's existence.

The Coffin Breaker sneered at the Rodolphus. "I was there the night your wife died, fighting for my life like all of my classmates. I watched her kill Ginny Weasley, I watched the insanity dance in her eyes, until it was overtaken by fear. Who would have thought- the strongest Death Eater, the most loyal servant, lain to rest by a _housewife."_ That got a response.

Lestrange was pushing against the bars in an instant, trying to grab the man's robes. "Don't you dare talk about my wife you sniveling half-breed! I'll have your head mounted on my wall! Mark my words I'll get out of here, track you down, and kill you! It will be a beautifully gruesome affair in the honor of her. I'll peel back your skin, pull your teeth, make you eat your own eyeballs! I'll keep you alive for months with only vitamin potions, and when you finally beg for death I will give you the sweet relief of the grave, and my beautiful Bella will torment you for all of eternity!" Rodolphus screamed, spittle flying from the intensity of his words.

The Coffin Breaker flung his head back and laughed and laughed and laughed. "Death dares not take me, for I am cursed to live while my love lies buried. Tell me though, would you give up your heritage for your precious Bella? Would you give up your power and might?"

"Quite you half blooded swine!" Rodolphus roared, taking his shoe and flinging it at the man. Feeling empowered when the shoe bounced off his head. "Your lies will never break me! I'll return to my Bella soon enough, I can feel my life slipping away."

The man shook his head. "Nay Rodolphus, you will not be joining her anytime soon. You will live to the ripe old age of 113, before dying of old age. You will never leave this cell, and even in death you will never see your Bella, as you will be going to different places. She after all has an excuse: she's crazier than the maddest American Muggle."

Rodolphus looked confused, so the man elaborated. "I don't know much about the afterlife, only about bringing people back from the grave. I have pieced together something though. There is no standard for where you are sent other than your own. Your bitch actually thought she was doing something purely virtuous, something divine. She is in her own 'heaven.' How many times did you puke after missions when you first started Lestrange? How long did it take you to adjust to it? You will feel torment only one's self can create."

Lestrange turned many different colors during this statement, before finally settling for a pale waxy yellow. "What do you want from me?" he whimpered, falling to his knees. "I'm already being punished, why do you take away the only hope I have left of seeing her again?"

"It's quite simple really." The Coffin Breaker said, squatting down to make eye contact. "I take away your 'hope' in order to replace it with something better. But I'm a little confused. Wasn't your marriage arranged? How could you have loved her so?"

Rodolphus, quick as a viper, grabbed through the bars, this time managing to take hold of his robes. "Don't you ever question my love for her you brat! I gave up almost the entirety of the Lestrange fortune in order to make my alliances clear to her scum father, may he rot in hell! We'd been so close in school, but she was to marry a Russian duke. I had to _triple_ the duke's offer in order for that man to see reason! My only regret in the arrangement is that the duke cursed me. That curse made it so I could never have children. You have no idea how much that hurts, no bloody idea!"

Rodolphus broke into tears, to the embarrassment of both. Neither knew how to deal with his tears, and just waited for him to stop. Thirty minutes later, the man spoke again.

"I'm a necromancer of a strange variety. I am able to exchange something of value, for the soul and life of the deceased. It is true that I am doing this for selfish reasons… but I'll ask my first question again: would you trade your power and heritage, for the life of the woman you so dearly love, to remain together in bliss, until you both finally return to the grave? If yes, then say but so and I will make it true. If nay, then I will leave you in your misery."

Rodolphus grabbed the man's robes this time, but instead of rage, his eyes were filled with hope. "Please." He whispered. "Please bring back my darling Bella, I don't care what you take, just please bring her back to me."

"Remember those words when you wake up Lestrange, because you can't take them back." The Coffin Breaker snapped his fingers…

…And Lestrange woke up in a cold sweat. For a while he sat there, shivering and disoriented.

His first thought was the obvious question. 'where the hell am I?' he looked around and saw he was in a nice bed with another person. Closer inspection revealed that person to be-

"Bella!" he cried, wrapping his arms around her.

"What is it dear? Was it that dream about wizard jails again?" Bellatrix asked, waking up at his embrace.

"What do you mean, 'dream?' I was actually imprisoned in Azkaban. So were you!"

"Oh Rod, you and your fantasies, always so vivid and sure that they're real. It's a good thing the kids finally moved out, or you might have woken them." Bellatrix said, patting him on the shoulder.

Something in Rodolphus' mind finally clicked. He had been told he would have to give up power and heritage. He was a muggle now, trash which he had wanted to destroy since he was old enough to think for himself. But this life might be better, he had kids, Bellatrix wasn't insane from Azkaban and crucio exposure. New memories flooded his mind. He was an author, a famous one even. He had published a series called, 'Garry Cotter.' He was rich and had plenty of time to spend with his wife. And he spent it in very… _fun_ ways.

"Bella," he started, clearing his throat. "since we're both awake, and I just had such an awful dream…"

"Oh I thought you'd never ask." Bella said, wrapping her arms around him. "Come here, lets play."

Rodolphus decided that being a muggle, a wealthy muggle with two kids in college and a loving wife, wasn't so bad as he and Bella did something he hadn't had a chance to do since before his first imprisonment.

"Now remember Rod, your safety word is 'Crucio.'" Bella said.


End file.
